Into the Woods
by Miss Shannon
Summary: When a case happens a little too close to home for Sharon and Andy, they soon realize that their new neighborhood might not be exactly what they were hoping for. (Sequel to "Rusty Beck - Marriage Broker" and "Incubus".)
1. Chapter 1

**Into the Woods**

**by Miss Shannon**

**A/N: **I used to have a completely different idea for this sequel, but then I decided that I liked this one better and it just demanded to be written. As this is a sequel to "Rusty Beck - Marriage Broker" and "Incubus", you should probably have read at least the latter in order to understand who the heck some people in this story are. Especially since this is now very A/U as Sharon's husband and her son's name have been introduced in the show. As always, I hope you enjoy and leave me a review that I can freak out over. :-)

**Warning:** There is a gruesome crime scene in this chapter which I think is not entirely suitable for the faint of heart. You have been warned.

**[1]**

The front door fell shut behind Andy Flynn with a resonating click that felt extremely gratifying after the long and exhausting day he'd had. He hung up his coat, took off his shoes and carelessly dropped his keys on to the table in the hall. The house was quiet, the setting winter sun streaming in through the large bay windows at the back of the house, and he closed his eyes against the bright light for a moment, enjoying its warmth on his skin. Their suspect - who had eventually turned out to be the killer - had been unruly and angry, hard to be managed without Sharon's calming influence. He trotted into the living-room and paused in the doorway, grinning at the sight in front of him. Sharon was curled up on the sofa, back resting against the large cushions, her daughter sleeping soundly in her arms. Having been born five weeks early, the girl was still a little smaller than other children her age, but she looked healthy and content nestled against her mother's chest. Sharon herself seemed to be a little sleepy and he approached her, slightly worried that she might fall asleep and loosen her grip on the baby. When he came closer, she opened her drooping eyes and smiled up at him.

"You look tired, honey." He grinned at the sound of her sleepy voice and bent down to kiss her.

"Long day," he said with a non-committal shrug, reaching out to stroke Louise's cheek. "She been good today?"

Sharon smiled and shifted, so he could sit down next to her to inspect the baby. "We went for a walk today. She loves the outdoors."

Andy frowned. "It's really cold."

Sharon slapped his arm playfully. "Don't you worry, Andy. She was wearing a bunch of warm clothes and a woolen hat and I had her inside my coat." She grinned at his sorry expression, chasing away the gloom that was threatening to settle over him at the notion that he hadn't thought of that because he had never paid much attention to his kids when they had been Louise's age. He did have a lot more to learn than he should have had.

"Did Rogers do it?" she inquired.

He filled her in on their recently wrapped case, not holding back on the details, because he knew how important she found it to stay current when it came to her division. The previous year had brought about rough times for all of them and so she had decided to stay home a little longer after she had had Louise. She had gotten Taylor to agree to three months of leave without having to give up her position as head of Major Crimes and was currently about to finish her second. She could tell that while she very much enjoyed spending a lot of time with their newborn baby, she was also a little bored sometimes. Sharon had a sharp mind that liked to be occupied and more often than not, she came up with pretty useful suggestions when she heard about what was going on at work. Hers was a different perspective and he missed her in the Murder Room every day.

"That means you have a chance of getting the whole weekend off," Sharon said. "Barbara is coming over for dinner Saturday."

Andy nodded his approval. He was always looking forward to having Sharon's best friend visit. The woman was witty and entertaining, especially when she'd had one or two glasses of wine. Sharon leaned into him and rested her head against his chest, making Louise give a small whimper in her sleep when she moved her. Andy caressed her small head, smoothing down the sparse but unruly patch of hair on top of it. Louise smacked her lips and went back to sleep.

"We could invite Provenza along, too. There's nothing more amusing than her pretending to be flirting with him."

Sharon chuckled. "Sure. I love to see him fidget."

They both turned their heads when they heard the familiar sound of a backpack being dropped on the floor. "Don't cuddle, cook!" Rusty's exasperated voice demanded. "Swim practice was gruesomely exhausting. I need nutrition!" He traipsed over towards the couch and pressed his cheek to Sharon's in greeting for the briefest of moments. He had taken up doing that shortly after Louise's birth and Andy could tell that Sharon loved it from the way she closed her eyes and smiled.

"Hey Andy!" Rusty greeted him, flopping himself down on the other end of the couch. His hair was a mess, probably having been blow-dried in a hurry and he did look a little tired. "What's for dinner?"

"Soy sprouts and chicken," Sharon replied. "I made it this afternoon. You just have to heat it up."

"Seriously?" Rusty complained. "How is that going to feed me, Sharon? I need a burger or a pizza."

Behind her back, Andy rolled his eyes at Rusty. Sharon had always been very conscious when it came to healthy eating, but since she was not allowed to go back to her running yet, she enforced a health food eating regime upon all of them that the two others did not particularly like. Sharon shrugged, rarely affected by their complaints.

"You have your own money, Rusty. Order take-out if you want." The teenager pulled a face. He much rather use his allowance to buy music or movies, not to feed himself, so he scrambled off to the kitchen, grumbling about her choice of meals all the way down the hallway. Sharon smiled at Andy and rested her head against his shoulder again.

"That's what you get when you leave me in charge of the household chores," she said with audible glee.

"I never complained," Andy said quickly.

"You were pulling faces at Rusty."

"How do you know that? Do you have eyes at the back of your head?" Andy whined, running his fingers along her scalp as if he was looking for said eyes.

"I just know you," she responded, leaning in to kiss him. He enjoyed the feeling of her lips on his and deepened the kiss, eliciting a small moan from her. He reached out and ran his fingers down her side. Even though the week had been long and exhausting, he didn't feel that tired anymore. They were truly happy, he thought, with their calm lives at home, with Rusty who seemed better after everything that had happened and with their healthy baby girl. The only thing that worried him was Sharon's apparent boredom. She had assured him that she wasn't sacrificing herself, that she had made her choice because she wanted to and not because she felt like it was expected of her, but sometimes he wondered whether he should have been the one. Heck, he could have used a break.

"How many books did you read this week?" he asked her, caressing the back of her neck with skilled fingers.

"Hmm, three," she replied in a relaxed, throaty voice. "I am planning on more walks for next week. Louise likes it and it helps me get in shape again."

"Don't overexert yourself. It's only been seven weeks!" Andy warned and she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Get over yourself, Andy. I am just walking around the neighborhood. It's not as if I was planning on attending a marathon or something."

"You're snappy," he teased her.

"You're overbearing," she shot back.

"Can you stop flirting and come eat?" Rusty's voice rang from the kitchen. "If I have to eat that hippie food, at least I want to have it while it's still hot!"

They got up from the couch and Andy took Louise from Sharon, settling her in the crook of his arm. She still seemed impossibly small and he was always afraid that he would drop her. Slowly he climbed the stairs and laid her down in the crib in her room, making sure she was well-covered by her blanket. He held out his forefinger and she grabbed onto it instinctively, her grip slowly loosening while she was going back to sleep. He watched her for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the tiny warm fingers wrapped around his. Sometimes he still couldn't believe the particular turn his life had taken over the course of the last year.

He winced when his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket and quickly left his daughter's room, backing into the hallway. Dread filled him when he realized it was Provenza. Praying that it would not be a case, he answered the call.

"Flynn, get your ass over here. We have a body."

He groaned. "Really? I was just going to have dinner with Sharon and Rusty." He went back downstairs and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Rusty devour his meal with a mixture of disgust and a wolfish appetite while Sharon ate at a more stately pace. She looked up and pursed her lips in sympathy, mouthing Provenza's name with a questioning look. Andy nodded and turned around to put on his shoes. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can," he said wearily.

"What?" Rusty exclaimed. "Another case? I thought we were going to watch the new season of Game of Thrones tonight."

"Sorry, kid, you've got to get Sharon to watch it with you."

"No way," Sharon said decidedly, repeating her earlier reaction to the idea. Rusty groaned.

"They found a body in the woods. At least it's not far from here. I might be back before midnight." He bent down to kiss Sharon and stroked her cheek gently, disappointed that, once again, he would not get to fall asleep next to her. Climbing into bed quietly as not to wake her seemed to have become his latest challenge. Although he had different reasons for staying out late at night these days, it was an unwelcome reminder of back in the day when he'd come home drunk and had tried not to have his wife notice. Sharon hummed while Rusty put a hand over his eyes, still shoveling forks full of food into his mouth.

"Stop making out at the dinner table!" he demanded.

"Stop talking with your mouth full!" Sharon admonished him. "I'll save some leftovers for you," she told Andy. "And you'd better be home tomorrow night. Barbara says she misses you."

"That can't be good," Andy grinned and headed for the door. His Friday evening was ruined, it seemed, now he needed to try and save his weekend.

* * *

A rookie officer with his head between his knees was never a promising sight to be greeted with upon one's arrival at a crime scene. Andy watched the irregular puffs of air coming from the young man's mouth, his breath visible in the cold air, highlighted by the large floodlights that had been erected all around the small clearing in the woods. He shivered even in his coat and scarf, looking around for Provenza in the crowd of crime scene personnel that had formed around a spot in the middle where he was sure the body was located. Something was eerie about the scene, he thought, but he didn't realize what it was until his partner's voice called out for him: It was quiet. Too quiet, considering the number of people around them. He could hear his own and Provenza's footsteps on the frozen grass beneath their feet when they walked together, both hunched against the cold wind. Provenza rubbed his bare hands together for warmth, casting a jealous look at Andy's leather gloves.

"God, I don't remember the last time it was that cold around here! Why the heck did I move to Los Angeles if it feels like Alaska?"

Andy didn't respond. He hadn't missed the shaky note in Provenza's annoyed tone and that was something that really went under his skin. If Provenza was affected, it had to be bad. He turned around to look at the young officer by the police tape that was fluttering in the icy breeze but he was gone. They passed pale faces and were met by both the Coroner and Dr Morales. The medical examiner didn't normally appear at crime scenes and his naturally dark complexion looked unusually pale, too. Few words of greeting were exchanged as people stepped aside to let them approach the body where Sanchez and Sykes were waiting, hands buried in their parka pockets, Sykes shivering with either the cold or something else.

"Sorry to disturb your evening with the Captain and the kids, Flynn, but this was a little more important." Provenza lightly rested his hand on his friend's shoulder.

Andy finally looked down at the body and his breath caught in his throat.

* * *

When he stepped out of the shower cubicle, Sharon was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in her pajamas with messy hair but an alert, worried look in her eyes. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his hips, grateful for the steam that had filled the bathroom so he was able to hang on to the warmth he had regained in the shower. She handed him a pair of pajamas and smiled tentatively.

"Thought you might need these." Andy slipped into them and rubbed his hand across his face, looking at his drained expression in the mirror. He felt Sharon stepping behind him and her arms came around his waist, her cheek pressed against his back. "Sorry for waking you," he apologized, his voice hoarse. "I just really needed a shower." He looked down at where he had placed his hands on top of hers that were clasped in front of his stomach and ran his thumb across hers.

"That bad?" she asked, knowing him well enough to be aware that a shower in the middle of the night meant that he was trying to wash off the memories of a particularly bad crime scene. He turned around and wrapped both of his arms around her, inhaling her familiar scent.

"That bad," he said tonelessly, reveling in the feeling of her body in his arms. She was almost back to her old figure, but she was still a little softer.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked and although he initially wanted to say no, he soon realized that he needed to. He nodded and followed her into their bedroom and under the still warm covers. For a moment he breathed in the comforting scents of their bedroom and wrapped his arms around her when she snuggled into him, resting her head on his chest. She was patient, he knew. She wouldn't ask him again until he came around on his own accord. And he really needed to get it off his chest.

"They found a body not far from here. I could have walked, actually. It was only a five minute car ride." He shivered at the notion that the gruesome killing had taken place so close to their home. Sharon's hand was resting on his stomach, her thumb faintly caressing his skin through the fabric. She was waiting for him to go on. A part of him wanted to spare her the details of what he had seen, but he knew that he needed to get it out there, that she was experienced enough to stand it. Then again, so was he and here he was, thoroughly rattled. "It was a young woman. About Rusty's age. She was on her back on the ground and she was-" He swallowed deeply at the memory. "She has been slaughtered, Sharon. The ground around her was black with her blood. It was awful. They probably took their time with her because I don't think I've ever seen so many cuts on someone's chest. Not her arms or face... just her chest. It was exposed and there was a lot of dried blood, but I think it was some sort of weird pattern." He slid his fingers between the strands of her hair and closed his eyes for a moment. "They'd cut off her hands and feet, Sharon, she most likely bled to death out there."

"Oh god," Sharon whispered, slipping her hand into his. "Do they have any idea who she is?"

"Not yet," Andy replied. "Tao is running her picture through the databases, we sent it out across the country, too. It is just a matter of time until we get a hit." He was silent for a moment before he quietly continued: "Something was weird about the scene. It was so quiet, Sharon. Not just the other people there. The woods, too. I used to spend a lot of time outdoors when I was a kid. The night is always full of noises, especially when you're not that far from the city but there... it was completely silent."

He felt her shiver despite the warmth they were both enveloped in.

"Promise me you won't walk up there with the little one, okay?" He tried a little joke that sounded ominous even to his own ears: "It feels like Pet Sematary up there."

"Okay," Sharon said softly, kissing his collarbone and gently running her hand up and down his arm. He was beginning to feel the exhaustion of a long, troublesome day and he was grateful when his arms became heavy and his mind was beginning to shut down. He rolled onto his side and pulled Sharon into his chest, burying his face in her neck. All he wanted was to hold her and succumb to sweet oblivion. They fell asleep in each other's arms, the lights in their bedroom still on.

* * *

"Andy made risotto. There are probably about three pounds of butter in it," Sharon told Barbara, kissing her cheek and wrapping her arms around her best friend in greetin. Barbara didn't live far from them and was a regular guest, but seeing her always lifted her spirits.

"That's okay, I've been at the gym all day," Barbara grinned then called out: "Do you want to feel my abs, Andy?" She reached out to pull up her t-shirt and Sharon laughed, steering her into the kitchen where Andy was preparing their dinner. He had spent most of the day at work but had insisted to cook for their guests, probably to take his mind off the case. There had not been much progress, so Provenza had sent them all home in the evening to catch up on some sleep or, in his and Andy's case, to have dinner and unwind. Barbara hit Andy in the back, gave Provenza a sultry grin and bent over Louise's basket on the counter, grinning at the baby that was watching what was going on in the kitchen with eager eyes.

"Hello, little monkey." She poked her in the belly. "What's up?"

Louise's face scrunched up and she began to whimper, the yet low sound threatening to develop into real tears soon. Barbara took two steps back and gave Sharon a sheepish look.

"I am so bad with monkeys, I mean babies."

Sharon, who was used to this from twenty years ago, rolled her eyes, grinning, and stepped towards the baby, calming her down quickly.

"How would you like being poked in the belly by someone?" Rusty asked Barbara sternly.

"Maybe I wouldn't mind so much," Barbara said, wriggling her eyebrows. "Depends on who it is."

"Oh my, Sharon, give that woman a glass of wine to shut her up!" Andy sighed from the stove, stirring the food expertly. Sharon shook her head and moved to the fridge to get the Chardonnay she had bought for the occasion.

"Make that a double!" Barbara piped up. "I can sleep in tomorrow and the day after that and every day for the next two weeks actually."

"Say what!" Provenza chimed in. "What's wrong with you, Cleary?"

Barbara leaned back against the counter, eyeing Louise warily who looked back and reached out for a strand of her hair. She took a generous step aside and pretended that she'd never moved.

"I decided that it's time to take some time off. Just two weeks basically. Our new associate is ready to spread his wings and we made Eleanor partner last month so she can man the ship for a while."

"What are you going to do without work for fourteen whole days?" Sharon asked, handing her and Provenza a glass of wine each.

"I'll see. Probably hanging out with all of my friends on maternity leave," Barbara announced, sipping the wine. "That smells heavenly, Andrew," she told Andy. "If I ever cooked, I'd ask for the recipe. Wait, maybe I'll try it next week. How long does it take? Can we put some wine in it?" She walked over towards the stove to peer into the pans and pots, leaving Sharon and Provenza on their own while Rusty played with Louise and the little toy cat Andrea Hobbs had given her back at the hospital.

"Andy was pretty rattled last night," Sharon said in a low voice. "Bad crime scene up there, right?" As if on cue, they both looked out of the window from where they had a view of the woods on the other side of the valley. The night was clear and peaceful, many lights spread out over the hills like glowing embers, but yet she shivered slightly.

"Pretty bad," Provenza agreed, gulping down half of his wine at once. "Weird MO, too. Cutting off the hands and feet but leaving the head? That wasn't done to conceal the girl's identity. The cuts on the chest are pretty methodical, so it wasn't done in a blind rage. Gives me the creeps, to be honest."

Sharon crossed her arms in front of her chest. Suddenly she felt like a glass of wine, too. She had hardly ever seen Andy that affected by a crime scene, let alone Provenza even though he was clearly not as shocked as Andy. Her husband was really good at separating his private and his work lives, but this murder had followed him home. While she was grateful, on some level, that she wasn't involved in the whole investigation, the case intrigued her as much as it horrified her.

"Do you think that might be some sort of satanist ritual?" she asked cautiously, aware of the fact that one always had to be careful with assumptions of this kind. Provenza shrugged.

"Probably. We don't know anything, yet, as it is. I am sure Andy is going to keep you updated on this one, though." He raised both of his brows in a slightly condescending expression. "Do not believe for a moment that my best friend and partner didn't tell me about you snooping around and trying to find out whether I do your job well."

Sharon smirked. "Forgive me for trying to remain up to date on my job," she said. "It's been a while since I've last had this much free time. I think that was in college or even before that."

"Yeah, I am pitying you, as you can see," Provenza said sarcastically. Sharon gave him a sweet smile and sauntered off to instruct Rusty to set the table. Twenty minutes later they were all assembled around the dining table, the smell of good food wafting through the air, a fire lit in the modern fireplace Sharon had not particularly liked in the beginning, but was starting to appreciate. She had tried to not eat too much of the delicious food Andy had prepared, but was currently on her second helping, happily devouring the mushroom and ham risotto he had made after his grandmother's own recipe. She would just have to walk an extra mile tomorrow, she thought, a smile gracing her lips at the memory of Louise taking in her surroundings with large-eyed wonder. She had forgotten how delightful it was to rediscover the world through a child's eyes and she felt perfectly content showing her little daughter the beautiful neighborhood they were living in. She had planned on taking her to the forest so she would be able to experience the scent of pine trees and the sound of dried, frozen leaves crunching under Sharon's feet, but Andy had been serious when he'd told her not to go there. She wasn't frightened by the place, having been to a lot of crimes scenes in her time, but she had no intention of upsetting him. After all, his concern was kind of sweet.

"So Sharon, always the good girl, did go with Boring Brian because he had asked her first. Sexy Sam, of course, was a little saddened!" Barbara was busy telling a story from their teenage years and Sharon grinned as the others were listening with keen interest. "At the prom, however, I found her making out with Sam in the hallway while Brian was boring Sam's date with stories about his accountant classes."

"I don't think he was boring her," Sharon contributed. "They got married right after graduation, so my little indiscretion wasn't that bad."

"Oh yeah?" Barbara asked skeptically. "Maybe he has bored her to death by now."

Easy laughter resonated across the table and Barbara grinned at Sharon across the table, her expression tender. She turned to Provenza and Andy.

"So is that your case up on the hill? The poor girl?" Andy's face went hard and Provenza narrowed his eyes.

"How do you know about that? It hasn't been in the news."

"I live here, remember? And also I had drinks with Hobbsie last night and she got called in, too." Barbara took another sip of her wine, pretending not to have seen Andy's expression. Sharon understood that he wanted to keep the case out of their home after telling her last night, but she decided to let him fight his own battles.

"So is it one of those ritual killings?" Barbara asked, intrigued, resting her chin on her hand.

"I am going to go up and check on the baby," Flynn growled, his chair scraping across the wooden floorboards as he got up with a start and hurried towards the door. Barbara gave Sharon a horrified look.

"Sorry, I didn't realize-"

"It's okay, Babs," Sharon assured her and Provenza offered to tell her friend what she wanted to know, obviously happy to have an opportunity to talk to her. Sharon caught Rusty's gaze who was jerking his head towards the doorway, making her raise her brows. Rusty gave her a not so subtle stare and she finally got up, excusing herself.

Andy was leaning in the doorway to their daughter's room, looking gloomy. The old stairs creaked on her way up and he turned around at the noise, his brows furrowed and his stance defensive. Sharon approached him, slowly sliding her hand in his. For a moment they stood in silence, then Andy quickly bent down and kissed her hard. Gasping with the unexpectedness of it, Sharon returned the kiss more softly, trying to ground him a little. When they came apart, the tortured look in Andy's eyes was back and it broke her heart to see him that desolate.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked him. "What bothers you so much about this particular case?"

"I guess I shouldn't have snapped at Barbara like that," Andy said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

"She'll get over it," Sharon assured him. "That woman has thick skin. Now?"

"I don't know what bothers me so much, Sharon. Something's... off. I can't put my finger on it. And it happened so close to our house. We just caught a break after everything that went down last year. I just want us all to be safe, okay?"

"We are safe," she said in a low, calming voice. "What happened there was horrible, but it has nothing to do with us. It is just another case."

Andy slid his arms around her and kissed her again, softly this time. "I might be overreacting."

"Probably. Now let's go back downstairs and see what Barbara and Provenza are up to. From what it looked like when I left, it's not very juicy." She gave him a sneaky smile. "Let's shake them up a little."

Andy's expression had relaxed and he ran his hand down Sharon's arm, taking her hand in his as they headed for the stairs. When she was already on the top step, he stopped, making her turn towards him.

"Sharon," he said, the dark shadow back on his face for a moment. "Please. Just don't go into the woods, okay?"


	2. Chapter 2

**[2]**

**A/N:** Lots of angst in this one! I can't seem to help it. The next chapter of "Now and Then", however, will probably be a fluff-fest, so I'll make up for it. Thank you so much for the many follows and reviews. I live for reading what you think of the plot, what you think might happen and what you want to happen. Please share your thoughts with me, I am always open to your input!

Provenza greeted Andy with a solemn face that didn't even light up when he delivered an appropriately inappropriate little remark that they would both have forgotten about by the time they were done scrubbing up. Andy slid his hands into the blue monstrosities that were required attire in the autopsy suite and strapped the mask around his neck, not yet ready willing to push it up to cover his mouth. Provenza did the same, albeit a little more slowly, his face unusually sad. Andy understood. He'd been just like that, alone with his thoughts on nights and weekends, sometimes unable to escape the images in his head. Right now he was luckier, having spent Sunday partially working only after a very enjoyable morning in bed with Sharon to come home to Rusty making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Sharon playing with Louise at the kitchen table. Life was good, he reminded himself, trying to conjure up the light smell of cinnamon in their living room and the warmth of Sharon's cheek against his own. He didn't succeed as the stench of decay was just too strong, masked not even by the smell of antiseptics in the morgue today.

Doctor Morales was his usual sassy self as he pulled the sheet off the body with flourish, his hair dark against the body's white skin as he bent over it to examine the outer injuries. Maybe one just couldn't do his job for as long as he had without developing a thick skin.

"Well, someone obviously fancies himself an artist," he said dryly. "Look at that."

Flynn and Provenza came closer, bending over the stainless steel table. The girl had been pretty with pale, freckled skin, high cheekbones and reddish blond hair that fell straight onto her shoulders. It was no longer matted with blood as the corpse had been cleaned after having been examined for fingerprints and fibers. Although her eyes were closed, there was no way to view her as even remotely peaceful as the stumps of her arms and legs were too obvious while the crazy set of cuts on her chest stood out against the grayish skin, serving as another stark reminder of her violent death.

"At first I thought it was some sort of ancient symbol, but I guess I was wrong."

"If that's supposed to be art, it's modern art," Provenza growled, examining the cuts that were gaping open in the girl's chest, never to mend again. It was unsettling to see the flesh cut like that without bleeding, the wounds clean and ominous.

"It's a tree," Morales said, carefully following the lines with the scalpel hovering just above the torn skin. "These are supposed to be branches and this is the trunk. See?"

Indeed, the cuts seemed to make sense this way. Andy took an instinctive step back, dread welling up inside him. Whoever had done this hadn't killed out of greed or anger. This was something else entirely. Something that he didn't want anywhere near his family.

"Anyhow," Morales went on. "These have been photographed and chronicled by my assistant this morning, so we might as well move on to the arms and legs."

Flynn swallowed, exchanging an uneasy look with Provenza.

"They have been severed before she was dead; the heavy bleeding indicates that her heart was still pumping when it happened." A nasty, metallic taste appeared on Flynn's tongue and it suddenly felt too heavy and too big for his mouth. For a moment he thought he might be sick, but then the spell lifted again. Thinking about severed limbs had always made him especially uneasy and he was barely conscious of the fact that he was rubbing his right hand over his left wrist as Morales examined the girl's. "I would peck that as the cause of death, too," he said, his voice now a little softer. "She bled out, that poor girl."

"Which injuries were inflicted first?" Provenza asked, suddenly sounding twice his age.

"I can't tell, but if I had to guess, I'd say he did that first and then took his time with the carvings on the chest."

Morales looked up, his eyes landing on Flynn.

"Lieutenant, you look white as a sheet. If you're going to faint in my morgue, at least step back from the body."

Andy saw Provenza's irritated look from the corner of his mouth and shook his head, unable to come up with a witty retort. "No, I'm okay."

"Good. Well then." Morales grabbed a scalpel and began to make the incision down the chest, the flesh parting obediently at the sharpness of the blade. Flynn gasped, his gloved hand coming up to cover his mouth. Attending an autopsy first thing on a Monday morning did not constitute the most pleasurable start of the week as it was, Andy reckoned, but he had never expected to be end up being the one with his head between his knees this time. He didn't remember how many autopsies he had witnessed in his career, but it must have been dozens, if not hundreds, most of which he had forgotten. It sounded heartless, but after some time in the business, a dead body became a dead body in his mind. He did feel bad for the victims and their families, but the sight of a naked dead person on the stainless steel table didn't normally make his stomach churn the way it had used to anymore. There were really bad autopsies, half-decomposed bodies, people found badly burned or remains of human beings that had been in the water for days and those still horrified him to some extent, but none of them had made him turn around and leave. And neither would this one, he promised himself, breathing through his nose and ignoring Provenza's turning of the head at the same time.

_"Honey, it's okay. I'm here." Her hand was soft but cold to his touch and he took it between his own, her whimper low in her throat._

Not now, Andy thought. _Not ever_, an unwelcome part of his conscious added pointedly. He couldn't dwell on those memories now, those hours that were safely locked away in his mind, never to be accessed again. But they returned, like flashes at first, then all at once, a bright, encompassing light.

_The ambulance was shaking slightly, the siren blaring outside, its noise barely blocked out by the walls of the car and it was hard to keep his footing while standing next to the stretcher in the middle. Cords belonging to medical equipment were swinging above him, the sound of the accelerator roaring somewhere in the background, but all Andy could focus on were Sharon and her hand in his. The blood coming from the wound on her temple was a stark contrast to her ashen skin, her green eyes alert and scared as they found his. _

_"It hurts," she managed, tears coming to her eyes. "Oh God, Andy, the baby..."_

_He placed his other hand on her forehead, the moistness and warmth of the blood expected yet shocking still, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Her other hand was on her belly where her dress wasn't already soaked with amniotic fluid. He should have seen it coming, he thought, should have been there earlier, should have kept Rick from pushing her into the table. Instead he had been too late, could only stand by while the doctors tried to save the baby._

_Her eyes fluttered open again as the ambulance began to slow down, almost having reached its destination. "Andy... Please... Stay." He squeezed her hand and ran his thumb gently across her forehead. "Of course, honey. I won't go anywhere. I promise." He felt her hand go limp inside his, her eyes falling closed and her head rolling to the side. _

_"She's unconscious!" The doors flew open as the stretcher was pushed through. "Water broke fifteen minutes ago." A nurse approached them from one side, a doctor from the other. Andy could tell that they were headed directly to an operating suite._

_"How far along is she?" The doctor asked Andy, his grey eyes alert and bright over the surgical mask he was already wearing._

_"Thirty-five weeks," he replied, surprised at the quality of his breathless voice. _

_"This way, you'll need these." The nurse gave him a friendly smile and helped him into the green scrubs, handing him gloves that he had trouble sliding over his trembling hands. There was perspiration on his forehead, he could feel a tiny bead of sweat rolling down his temple, while his heart was slamming against his ribs. It seemed like an eternity until he was allowed to enter the small room where Sharon was on her back, her breathing aided and her eyes closed. Andy felt panic overtake him when they held him back as he wanted to approach her and take her hand._

_"Keep back, sir." It was the nurse again, the freckles on her nose calming him down for some absurd reason, her clear blue eyes sympathetic. "You'll need to let them do their jobs. You can hold the baby as soon as it's here."_

_"Sharon, my wife, will she be okay?" Although it should have been new and alien to him, calling her his wife came out completely naturally._

_"Yes, she will be." The nurse's gaze didn't waver, but he wasn't sure whether it was due to the honesty of her statement or to experience with worried relatives. It seemed like an eternity until another nurse approached him where he was still forced to stand back, a small bundle in her arms. Andy didn't trust himself to hold it, didn't think he could stop his hands from trembling long enough to ensure a safe hold of the child, but somehow they managed to settle her in his arms, small cries coming from the tiny being in his arms._

_"Is she okay? Is my wife okay?" he asked frantically, receiving a warm nod in return._

_"She'll be out for another few hours, but she will be fine, sir." _

The flesh was now gaping open, the smell of death and decay filling the air, and Andy turned on his heel to run out.

Once he was outside, trying to breathe regularly again, he felt embarrassed, to say the least. Embarrassed and worried that something was wrong with him, that he was suffering from some illness he had not yet been diagnosed with. But another part of him was already aware that the nausea he was feeling didn't have a physical reason. Maybe it wasn't even the sight of the girl in there, the large blue eyes, the fine hair of a petite seventeen year old who had been someone's daughter. Why it had triggered those unwelcome memories from one of the worst moments of his life was anybody's guess. He straightened up slowly, his hands still shaking, the image of the crude drawing on the girl's chest still burned into the inside of his eyelids. He saw the shaky lines, edged into the creamy skin, whenever he closed his eyes. Straightening up, Andy walked up and down the hallway once, eager to get out of the blue scrubs, yet determined to keep them on. He wanted to call Sharon, but then he didn't want to pull her into his mess. Not after everything that had happened. It seemed that the gruesome sight in the autopsy suite had pulled down a wall inside his head, only a thin sheet of fabric now separating his personal feelings from his professional mind and, like a wave, his own emotions crashed in again and washed over him. He saw himself running towards her apartment building, heart hammering in his chest, as a man with a badly concealed gun entered it. He remembered the searing pain and the warm wetness of the blood gushing from the wound in his thigh, his leg giving way so he came to rest on first one, then both knees, his consciousness slowly fading from him. Then again, a very pregnant Sharon on the courtroom floor at Rick Parker's trial, the large puddle of amniotic fluid around her, looking at him with feverish, terrified eyes. Her moaning in pain, her voice flat and quiet and unfamiliar. He thought of the frenzy everyone had been in at the hospital, her being wheeled directly into the operating suite. He had forced himself not to look at Sharon who was unconscious and cut open but had reached out his arms for the baby instead, eager to warm her up and take care of her. Her first tentative cries were still ringing in his ears and the mixture of wonder and concern he had felt while looking down at her fragile little body.

Andy didn't know why he was thinking of all this now, why he remembered Rusty's bloodied and beaten face back at the motel room, Sharon kneeling next to him on the dirty carpet, trying to soothe him. It was as if the autopsy had reawakened this bunch of memories that he had deemed safely locked away. He only realized that he was having trouble breathing when Provenza's hand came to rest on his back and his calm, sympathetic voice spoke to him.

"Flynn, you're having a panic attack."

* * *

She almost released a nervous laugh when the key actually fit and smoothly turned in the lock to grant her access to the house. She heard the cab driving away behind her, leaving her alone to step into the hallway. She recognized the silence that enveloped her as soon as she closed the door behind her as the kind that persists in an empty house. Nobody was home, which suited her just fine. Leaning against the heavy wooden front door, she took in her first view of the house. A short hallway ended in an open door that led to the living-room, the sunlight coming in through the back windows drawing circles on the dark wooden floorboards. She had expected the house to feel unfamiliar, maybe even unwelcoming, but it was neither. The scent lingering in the air was just as familiar as the sculpture of a ballerina standing on the sideboard next to her. Nothing was out of order except a pair of trainers that didn't seem to belong in here. She placed her key in her pocket, still irrationally afraid that someone would take it away from her again and began her journey.

The kitchen was big and modern but had a comfortable air. She approached the fridge and found a St. Joseph's timetable attached to it, along with a short shopping list. There was an empty tea cup waiting to be rinsed, next to a baby bottle. She turned away when she saw it, quickly venturing back into the hallway and upstairs instead. The master bedroom was quiet, the bed neatly made. She could tell after only one glance which was who's side of the bed with a novel and lip balm on one bedside table and a dog-eared baseball magazine on the other. There were five identically framed photos on a drawer opposite the bed and she picked the one in the middle that had obviously been taken at a wedding, giving it a long look. They looked happy, leaning against each other in a simple dress and suit, hands joined over her swollen belly. She put it down in its place, swallowing back the sudden anger that was rising up inside her. Next door was a child's room. Bright and cheerful, carefully decorated with stuffed animals and pictures of cats. She closed the door quickly, walking back downstairs. The onslaught of this mixture of familiarity and foreignness confused her, left her with both anger and guilt. She decided to go back where she had left her bag by the door, ready to flee as quietly as she had snug in when the front door opened and she froze in her tracks, hand still on the banister.

Sharon Raydor walked in and gasped at the sight of her, her eyes going wide with shock.

"Laura!"

For a moment she didn't know whether to run into her arms or past her onto the street. Her mother looked the same she had when she had last seen her, her hair styled in the usual way, wearing a dark blue coat and her glasses. The image evoked memories of many happy occasions and suddenly she felt the urge to go and hug her. Then the door opened wider and another figure walked in, clad in a black coat, wearing flat leather boots and a scowl under her mob of unruly curls. Barbara.

Only when there was a small cry, she became aware of the baby that was nestled against her mother's chest, safely bundled inside her coat. Sharon gave Barbara a somewhat panicked look to which the other woman raised her hands in surrender. The silent exchange was all it took for Sharon to make a decision, it seemed. She placed her hand on the baby's head, gently calming it down.

"She's tired," she addressed Laura again, her eyes pleading. "It is time for her nap. I'll just go up and tuck her in and then I'll be right back, okay?" She quickly undid the buttons on her coat and shrugged out of it, Barbara catching it at the very last minute as it slid off her shoulders. Both arms around the baby, Sharon hurried up the stairs as quickly as possible without risking slipping and falling. Laura looked after her as she ascended, suddenly too weary to go on the run again. As soon as her mother was out of sight, she turned back around to look at Barbara. The hard gaze in her mother's best friend's eyes was new and made her feel awkward. Although she wasn't good with little children, Barbara had always been a fixture in their lives, helping out and growing closer to Laura and James as they grew older. She watched her turn around and hang up Sharon's coat, taking her time straightening it out. The scowl on her face was still there when she faced Laura again, both arms now crossed in front of her chest.

"Well, well. Look who's back. The lost daughter." There was venom in her tone and Laura felt herself tremble lightly, not out of fear but out of respect for someone who had been a protective figure to her all her life. Still she felt annoyed and treated unfairly, so she mirrored Barbara's stance and gave her a challenging look.

"Yes, I'm back." Too late she realized that she sounded like a sullen teenager.

"Oh, well. How nice. How about you sit down, grab a cookie and I make you a cup of tea?" There was no way to miss the sarcasm that was seeping through Barbara's words. Her eyes were blazing with barely contained rage.

"What is your problem?" Laura asked, dangerously close to losing her cool.

Barbara made a low hissing sound that was slightly reminiscent of an angry cat. "What is my problem? You break your mother's heart, refuse all contact with her for five months and then just turn up on her doorstep? Better yet, inside the house without as much as a phone call? How did you get the key anyway?"

It was her brother's, but Laura wasn't about to explain that to Barbara, being much too furious to slow down for such technicalities.

"Who are you to judge, Barbara? Mom isn't angry with me, so you shouldn't be either!"

"Oh, really?" While Laura's voice had grown louder, Barbara's had dropped to a low growl. "Your mother missed you like crazy. She's been through so much those past few months and you just let her down. Now you're walking in here like you're entitled to her forgiveness when you have been a lousy daughter to her all this time!"

Laura felt tears stinging in her eyes. A small part of her knew that Barbara was right, had acknowledged that fact a long time ago, but she couldn't admit it. Not now and especially not to Barbara.

"Yeah, I was busy being a good daughter to my father. To try and keep him from drinking, you know. Which he started again because you got him disbarred!"

Barbara snorted. "They didn't kick him out, you know. He just temporarily lost his license. Which is ridiculously lenient, if you ask me. And nobody forced him to drink again."

Laura's heartbeat was hammering in her throat. "You never liked my dad in the first place!"

"I didn't!" Barbara admitted freely, throwing her hands in the air. "Guess why. He treated your mother like garbage and now you are doing the very same. How can you expect me not to want to smack your head, young lady?"

"Don't be patronizing!" Laura shot back. "I am not a child! And I am back now, okay?"

"Yeah, but what for? Blame your mother for your father's mistakes? Forgive me if I come off cold, but I just don't understand why Sharon didn't kick you out again."

Laura wasn't a vicious person but the stress that had accumulated inside of her, along with the dread she had been feeling all week made her say things that she would have otherwise kept to herself. "That's probably because you are not a mother. You have no idea how it is to have a daughter. Don't take your disappointment at your own life out at me."

Barbara chuckled, her eyes hard. "Is that the girl my best friend raised? The one that was all for female equality and chances? The one that agreed that having children is not every woman's goal in life and doesn't have to be? Because I can't see her now."

Laura's anger deflated. Barbara was right. However, she didn't seem to be finished.

"And right now I am quite glad that I don't have to subject myself to an ungrateful, self-centered daughter that takes everything for granted and runs off for almost half a year because her mother fell in love and had a baby."

"Barbara, it's enough."

Both turned around to see Sharon standing in the doorway, her eyes full of pain. Now it was Barbara's turn to look sheepish, her hands going in her trouser pockets. "I should probably leave the two of you alone. I see you later, Sharon." She awkwardly kissed her cheek and walked past her.

Neither mother or daughter moved until the front door had fallen shut behind Barbara. Then Sharon turned and gently placed the baby monitor she was carrying on the side board next to her.

"Is the baby asleep?" Laura asked in what came out as a small voice. "I didn't get a good look at her but she didn't look much bigger than in the picture you sent me back when she was born."

Sharon gave a small but hopeful smile, her hands buried deeply in the pockets of her sweater. "That was probably just the angle. She's grown well those past weeks. It's- well, it's cold outside. Do you want some tea?"

Laura shrugged, suddenly feeling weak and tired. "Yes, I do. Thank you."

She followed her mother into the kitchen and watched as she heated the water and prepared their tea as calmly and meticulously as ever, the slight tremble of her hands almost imperceptible. Laura looked around, now noticing a multitude of familiar objects that gave the house a familiar feeling although she had never been there before. The tea that was being made was her mother's favorite brand, the one she used to give her for Christmas or for her birthday when she'd been much younger. Not that much had changed, she realized. Her chest tightened while she was watching her mother's movements, taking in the blue sweater she'd seen her wearing around the house a thousand times before, the matching slippers she loved so much and the warm look in her eyes even after everything that had happened.

"Mom?" Sharon turned around and Laura pulled her into her, arms wrapped firmly around her. "I am so sorry." Her voice was muffled in her mother's hair but she could tell that she had heard by the way her embrace tightened. Her soft body and her familiar scent were what finally broke her. Sharon felt her daughter's body tremble when the tears began to fall and just like she always had, she cradled her close to her, running her hands down her back in a soothing motion. "It's okay, baby. Just let it out. It's fine. I'm here."

"Mom," Laura whispered. "Mom, it's Dad."

* * *

Sharon wasn't sure what had woken her but she was suddenly wide awake, sitting up in bed. Her bedside lamp was still on from when she had fallen asleep over a book earlier but she didn't need to look at the other side of the bed to know that Andy wasn't there. Another late night, she thought regretfully although his absence at dinner had probably been for the better since Laura had been there. Was she up, she thought, was that what had woken her? Sharon threw the covers back and set her feet on the cool wooden floor. Walking slowly towards the door, she listened for other sounds but didn't hear any. Maybe she was just nervous because she had a small child in her house, she thought, smirking slightly to herself. It had been like that with all of her children. Somehow the idea that there was a small being to protect still made her nervous and more alert to the world around her. She opened the door to Louise's room and found it dark but easy to navigate due to the light that was coming in from the yard. Inching towards the crib, she was almost sure that the baby had not been the source of the noise. When she looked inside, her heart stopped. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand when she realized that the crib was empty.

"Sharon?" She whirled around towards the voice and sighed with relief when she found Andy sitting in the window seat, the baby cradled in his arms.

"Andy! Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Her knees felt too weak with shock to even consider walking any further than the window to turn on the light so she sat down opposite Andy who was staring down at the sleeping infant with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Are you okay, honey?" She reached out and cupped his cheek. "You look exhausted."

"Long day," he croaked. "I just got in. Sorry to wake you."

"That's alright," she said softly. "Did you make any progress with the case?"

She noticed how his hold on the baby tightened and a flash of something she could not discern lit up his eyes for a moment, visible even in the semi-darkness.

"Not much on the murder itself. We found out who she is, though. Kirsten Gallagher from a small town in Iowa. She'd been missing for two weeks and we have no idea how she got from there to here or why. She was seventeen, Sharon."

"Seventeen," Sharon echoed. "So young."

Andy looked down. "Not as young as Louise, though."

It began to dawn on Sharon why he was here, holding their daughter in the middle of the night like that.

"She's safe with us, Andy," she told him gently. "No matter how close to our house it was that Kirsten got murdered."

The look on his face was dark, his eyes lying in shadow. "How can you be so sure, Sharon? All kinds of horrible things happened to us lately. How do we know that the killer doesn't decide that he likes to harm her, too? Or you? Or Rusty?"

"Honey, you've been on the force long enough not to let yourself think this way." She inched closer to him and wrapped her arms around his upper body, mindful of Louise between them. They remained still for a moment then she drew back. "How about we put her back in her crib and go to bed?"

She almost laughed at the apprehensive and sorrowful look in his eyes, but he spoke before she could. "You know, I think I've just never really... consciously been a father to a small child like that. When my others were like this... I was either always working or drunk. It's so different this time."

She smiled sadly, her hand on his knee. Sharon knew that Andy was still atoning for his past mistakes, that his ex-wife still hated him and his somewhat estranged sons rarely called. His relationship with Tina, his daughter, had improved, though, and she was now just a little older than the girl found in the woods. She noticed now that he looked not only worn and exhausted, but also nervous and bothered. Something was wrong, something other than just the case.

"Are you really alright, Andy?" she asked him again. "Did something happen today?"

He shook his head slowly, but she knew that he was lying. She swallowed, both saddened by the fact that he didn't choose to share what had happened and also understanding because sometimes she liked to keep things like that to herself, too.

"How about we take her with us?" she asked instead of probing him for more information, smiling at the hopeful look in his eyes.

"Yeah, okay." He rose carefully, cradling Louise against his chest as they walked back into the bedroom and slid under the covers together, the baby between them.

"Laura is here, you know," she told him.

"Really?" Andy's voice sounded firmer now, more like him. "When did that happen?"

"She came here this afternoon." Sharon swallowed, willing herself to be calm about it. "She is in over her head with Charles, Andy. Caught him sneaking vodka into his orange juice at breakfast."

Andy closed his eyes and shook his head. "Clear liquor that doesn't smell. A classic move. And she's come to you why exactly?"

"I am not sure. Maybe she wants me to fix this."

He snorted. "Did she at least take the time to apologize for treating you the way she did?" Andy asked. "With everything that was already happening, she did put you through a lot."

Sharon sighed. "We didn't talk about that, Andy. Maybe tomorrow."

They remained quiet for a moment, their hands in each other, eyes closed.

"I feel a little better now, Sharon. Laura is right when it comes to one thing: You do always make things right," he murmured.

She chuckled sleepily, squeezing his hand affectionately. "I wish I could, Andy. I wish I could."

Neither of them saw the dark shadow that glided past the low brick wall that separated their property from their neighbor's.


End file.
